The Arran 16 (30 ml mini of 92 proof, non-chill-filtered goodness)

Tasting notes:
The Arran 16 year old nose is simultaneously understated and spilling over the brim of the glass like the rolling clouds of a stereotypical hunk-of-dry-ice-in-water brew in a witch’s goblet. Acorn paste spread on crostini using Humboldt fog cheese rather than a goat cheese, Svetlana’s infamous lingonberry and slivovitz tart, and Eric Clapton’s unreleased album Blackthorn Sloe Hand. Must on a gunstock. Dust on ginger-root. Fust on Johann’s printing press, and lust eliciting John’s disapprovingly pursed lips.

[Stephen: Dare I ask about “Svetlana”?]

[John: I wouldn’t. You shouldn’t.]

On the mouth, a maple wood cradle long outgrown by boisterous and rambunctious two-year old twins. Saffron-scented sheets. The shadow of a waxwing slain and marzipan fish scales. Double toffee, being a combination of normal toffee and the portmanteau constructed from Tremendous cOFFEE. Autumn leaves and April showers. Finishing with long, slow, drawn-out baaaaaannnnnngggggg AND a whimper of What strange new land do I found myself in? Where are the tomorrows of our yesterdays?

[John: Bill, have you been taking your meds?]

The finish is like the essence of the fruit flavors clinging to the softened almost gelatinous white stick of a lollipop. It’s comforting, surprisingly, and an invocation of past glories, childhood nostalgia, and Rainbow Mayonnaise. (Yes, that last was for you, Jackie, just in case you read our non-Ardbeg posts.) Honey molasses spread on pumpernickel bread with a vintage Wallace sterling silver butter knife, where the patina was the oxidized love of a grandmother for her granddaughters.